


Addicted.

by orphan_account



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bad Ideas, Friends With Benefits, Gets spicy ngl, I Can't Believe I Wrote This, I Don't Even Know, Kino/yanan if you squint, M/M, Not my usual style, Pining, jihan if you really really squint, maybe dont listen to hozier when writing, no actual smut my dudes, this is what i write at 1 am
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-23
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-04 03:07:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24876685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: It's the kind of thing that should send off sirens in your mind, should make you immediately start running away as fast as your feet could carry you. It's a bad idea, a terrible idea in fact one that will sink you and bite you so hard in the ass you may never recover.So when at three in the morning Minghao crashes through the door, the smell of vodka wafting through the air and grips Jun by the collar, begging him help me forget, Jun shoves him off, forces him to drink a gallon of water and carries him to bed.That’s what he does the first time anyway.
Relationships: Wen Jun Hui | Jun/Xu Ming Hao | The8
Comments: 24
Kudos: 33





	1. Throw away pride.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Welcome to the first fic of my life I know Im actually going to finish!  
> Its definitely different from what I usually write, but I hope its alright :3 It's kinda an experiment

It's the kind of thing that should send off sirens in your mind, should make you immediately start running away as fast as your feet could carry you. It's a bad idea, a terrible idea in fact one that will sink you and bite you so hard in the ass you may never recover.  
So when at three in the morning Minghao crashes through the door, the smell of vodka wafting through the air and grips Jun by the collar, begging him help me forget, Jun shoves him off, forces him to drink a gallon of water and carries him to bed.  
That’s what he does the first time anyway.

t's the kind of thing that should send off sirens in your mind, should make you immediately start running away as fast as your feet could carry you. It's a bad idea, a terrible idea in fact one that will sink you and bite you so hard in the ass you may never recover. 

So when at three in the morning Minghao crashes through the door, the smell of vodka wafting through the air and grips Jun by the collar, begging him  _ help me forget _ , Jun shoves him off, forces him to drink a gallon of water and carries him to bed. 

That’s what he does the first time anyway. 

Minghao doesn’t remember in the morning. Jun thanks the heavens and wishes he didn’t either. It was easier before, when he hadn’t felt Minghao’s breath on his neck, however brief it still burned. Burned because just a tiny taste was enough to develop a hunger. Before, Jun could pretend, at least somewhat that it didn’t physically pain him to look at Minghao sometimes, that he wasn’t fighting every urge to reach out, let the hair that curled around Minghao’s neck slide through his feelings, let himself call Minghao his. He’d gotten so used to suppressing it, he had found neutral ground in numbness. 

“Did you take me home last night? I can’t remember anything past Jeonghan stealing eggs from the convenience store.” 

That explained the series of pictures Joshua had sent: 

  1. Jeonghan, carrying something under his hoodie, rubbing it like he was pregnant. 
  2. The wall of what looked suspiciously like that of his sister's ex boyfriend’s house, decorated in a lovely yellow sludge. 
  3. Jeonghan pouting in the back of a police car. 



“You arrived by yourself, not sure how you got here, at about 3am. You were too out of it to have gotten there alone though.” 

“Mhm.” Minghao mumbles sleepily, looking way too domestic, hair going every and all directions, Jun’s dressing down draped over his shoulders. He’d tried to tell Minghao to get his own, to little avail. Of course he looks like that, they live together for fucks sake, Jun’s heart could do him a favour and get itself common sense and backbone. 

Sleepy Minghao was always Jun’s favourite Minghao, without any stoic walls of ice up to protect him, his tendency to drop an actual compliment, with silly giggles, enough to make anyone with a heart open it completely to him. So it isn’t odd when Minghao limply wraps his arms around Jun’s waist as he washes up. “Thanks for taking care of me.” There it is again, the feeling of Minghao’s breath, so familiar to just hours before, all it would take would be to turn around, he was so close, he could have-

“Would have sucked if you had died.” He replies instead, shrugging him off. “Go back to bed.”

“Aye Captain.” 

He sighs. 

_ Fuck Jun, tell me you and Minghao didn’t do anything last night.  _

_ God no. Why? _

_ Nevermind _

_ Mingyu. _

_ Fine. He started ranting about you know who, and by this point he was so drunk it did not make much sense, and then he said something about getting over it which I thought phew great but he demanded I take him home. _

_ And you thought he meant… _

_ Yeah. but yay seems he didn’t _

_ Yeah. About that.  _

_ Jun???? _

_ He tried to kiss me. I didn’t let him and sent him to bed. He doesn’t remember _

_ You okay? _

_ No. _

_ I’ll call him.  _

_ Oh god please don’t. I would rather everyone forgot. _

_ Okay.  _

  
  


Next time, next time is so much worse, because this time Jun lacks his better judgement thanks to the intervention of his own four tequila shots. 

“I don’t know if being drunk is a tremendous idea, not if he’s there.” He hisses to Mingyu as they remove their coats. 

“He’ll probably be suspicious if you don’t, it’s his birthday. I’m not drinking, I won't leave you guys alone.” Mingyu shrugs, giving Jun his signature puppy smile Jun knows he reserves for when people want to sink below the earth's crust and boil themselves in the magma beneath. 

Jun nods in response, even if his stomach already lurches. 

Jun doesn’t really blame Mingyu. Being the sober babysitter of twelve individuals, each one of them losing most rationality the second alcohol grazes their lips, he can’t look after everyone at once. 

“Maybe I’m just not enough. My face. Face not enough.” Minghao rambles, the two of them crouched under a table. No wonder Mingyu can't see them. 

The world tilts and lights flash too brightly for Jun’s intoxicated mind to comprehend, but under it all he knows he sees Minghao correctly. Eyes puffy and insecure, and it just about kills Jun. Nothing in this world was perfect, but if things ever got close Jun was pretty sure that was Minghao. Like an eclipse, so powerful you’re supposed to look away, it’s safer if you look away, yet Jun finds himself staring relentlessly, eyes wide, not caring if it blinds him. 

“You-You’re an idiot. Don’t think that, things like that are not, not true.” He slurs. He can’t give anything away, even if his mouth wants to run, to tell him things that aren’t allowed.  _ I could be right below the northern lights and still stare at you _ comes to mind, and even drunk him is appalled at the sappynesss of it, even if it’s true.

“No, you don't- understand- Jun. You’re  _ pretty.” _

It’s not a word that Jun’s alien to exactly. He’s been called it so many times, mostly by relatives, sometimes by his friends and frequently by Minghao. “Take the bins out for once  _ pretty boy.”  _

Maybe it’s the soju, but Jun swears he hears something different in it this time, a little tang of something he’s never heard in Minghaos voice- except once. 

“So _ pretty.”  _ Minghao repeats, smoothly running a finger over Jun’s eyebrow. 

This is hell, Jun decides.

“Is this weird?” Minghao asks, snapping Jun back into some degree of focus. Minghao is on his fucking  _ lap.  _ How did he even get there? He’s so out of it he didn’t even notice- but he is definitely noticing now. 

_ Weird?  _ No. It should be, it should be so very very weird that his roommate literally has his legs, wrapped around his waist, that his hair is hanging down into Jun’s eyes, his fingers cradling his head. It should be uncomfortable, should be foreign. But it’s not, because he  _ wants  _ this, he craves it. 

_ Wrong?  _ Yes. This is the alcohol. It doesn’t matter how much Jun yearns for it, anything Minghao wants right now, he only wants it now, he won’t want it in the morning, he didn’t want it twenty minutes ago. Funny how the stuff of Jun’s dreams are a meer drunken thought for Minghao. 

“I am  _ so  _ drunk.” Is the last thing Minghao says before lips are connected and hands run through hair. 

A thousand sirens ring in Jun’s ears, his mind scrambles, it panics, it shouts to stop, it screams it, but his body refuses to listen, because this, this is more intoxicated than anything, and he’s  _ addicted.  _

Don’t like your lips if they feel dry. 

Don’t rub your eye if it feels itchy.

Don’t forget to stretch after exercising. 

Don’t let yourself be used just because it resembles what you want.

It’ll only hurt more in the long run. 

“You are so, so beautiful.” He tells Minghao, who smiles against his lips, and it’s the last he remembers before waking up in Soonyoung’s bathtub. 

He ignores the pang of his head to find the awake and least hungover of all his friends around the kitchen bench. 

“Ah. Rise and shine, hope you slept okay in there- we did give you a pillow.” Hansol calls, chearily downing a breakfast bloody mary. 

“What. Happened.” He grunts, turning to Mingyu, who was attempting to hide behind a box of cereal. 

“You tell me. I only left for twenty minutes.” Mingyu replies dryly, gesturing to Jun’s neck.

_ Fuck. _ He hates that a ghost of a smile bounces off his mouth. 

“Don’t panic too hard, nothing beyond… that happened before I found you and Minghao timely passed out. You then drank two jaeger bombs and insisted on galloping the whole way home, while crying.” 

He knows he’s going to cry  _ now.  _

“Someone pass me some aspirin.” He sniffs, deciding not to pay attention to the stabs of sympathy his friends throw, with their frites teeth and silent conversations they think Jun won’t hear. 

“He’s on my bed, wouldn’t let me sleep in it, had to share with Seokmin again.” Seungkwan answers, before Jun even asked. 

“Uh, morning.” Minghao greets him at 2pm in the afternoon. 

His tone is hesitant, he’s scratching his head and looking nowhere near Jun. But Jun, can’t tear his eyes away from him ever, like this could be any different. And Minghao looks like he does today- he looks like that because of  _ him.  _

The elephant is too colossal to not mention, because against Jun’s prayers, Minghao definitely remembers.

Jun feels himself pulling his collar up further. 

“Tequila does wild things doesn’t it.” Minghao comments after what was anything but a comfortable silence, accompanied by the fakest laugh Jun think’s he’s ever heard. 

“Right.” Jun replies, his own just as forced.

It’s acid to his veins. 

  
  


Jun’s sure it will never happen again, but Minghao’s too big a constant in his life for anything to change. The topic gets buried under blames of alcohol and the helpful fact that every single one of them has made out with Jeonghan when drunk, and that's perfectly normal. A weird fluke to bring up to laugh about. 

Haha. 

Minghao’s long over the guy that drove him into Jun three months ago, the first time when nothing happened, so this situation should dissolve completely.

Except it doesn’t, and this time the convenient blame of alcohol cannot be framed. 

Exams are terrible wastes of human willpower, Jun thinks as he slams his fist into the wall at midnight. A grade on one piece of paper is not enough of a reward for everything, it’s pointless but it matters so goddamn much, and this wall can take a little thrashing as penance. At least it would have, if not for fingers closing around Jun’s wrist before he can again. 

“Stop, you’ll only hurt yourself.” Minghao begs, looking at him so harshly that Jun immediately drops his fist. 

“It makes me feel better-” He begins to mutter, silenced by the soft lips that press against his own, even if only for a second. 

“Does that make you feel better?” He heard into the crook of his neck, so softly he barely registered it. 

Jun’s mind was so congested that he couldn’t even make out his own thoughts, let alone answer. “Are you drunk?” was all he could blurt out, quiet and fragile. This could be fractured and shatter in a second, as they stared, inches apart in the quiet of night. 

“No. But I know this can take pain away, it worked for me didn’t it?” 

Jun has no idea that  _ this _ was a thing, whatever it was, and thought that the reason Minghao might have been able to numb himself that night was wildly different to why Jun aches to pull Minghao in and never ever let him go. 

“I want to.” Minghao bites his lip. “To help you. If you want to. It’s okay.” 

_ It’s so far past okay _

Jun is tired, and he’s in so much pain and the boy he’s pretty sure he loves is kissing his neck and making the world a little less painful with every second. 

_ It’s your own funeral.  _ He thinks to himself. 

  
  


Everythings vaguely normal. Nothing shifts massively, other than Jun’s appetite for Minghao ever growing, and despite everything it isn’t awkward. They’re friends anyway, so why would anything have to change? Sure, it's absolutely destroying Jun from the inside but nothing from their friendship suffers afterwards. It's exactly identical to how it was before any of this. 

With some..additional quirks. 

Initially Jun thinks of it as a once each kind of thing. He took Minghao’s pain away on his birthday, and Minghao took his in return. But pinned to a wall two weeks later, Jun begins to doubt that. It begins whenever one of them is stressed, angry, upset, at least somewhat sorted by their weird unspoken arrangement. 

It was only occasionally, sporadic enough to not be massively noticeable, but the periods between shrank and shrank, and suddenly he’d find himself attached to Minghao for reasons as small as mutual boredom. It definitely had nothing to do with the fact that when Jun felt himself pining, all it took was to ask. He could have Minghao’s lips on his, he could tell Minghao that he loved him over and over without words, without Minghao ever understanding, he could have Minghao call his name right in his ear, but he could never have Minghao. 

Jun keeps it to himself, the selfish bit of him playing into the fantasy that if only he knows, only he has Minghao. But Jun clearly told Mingyu something, who although kind enough not to pull Jun about it, blabs his fat mouth to Wonwoo, who  _ freaks.  _

Of course he would, which is precisely the reason Jun didn’t tell him. The last thing he needed was another voice in his head telling him he was being stupid, and lest it be the one of their friends who seemed to posses any intelligence, since he was probably right, unfortunately.

“You, Wen Junhui are officially the most idiotic individual I have had the misfortunate of having to deal with.” 

“If you’re saying I’m going to hurt him, I really don’t think that’s going to be an issue.”

“I’m worried about _ you.  _ You destroyed yourself over him enough before anything like this shit happened.” 

“Its better and its worse.” Jun shrugs. 

“Bittersweet is for movies where someone sacrifices themselves but there’s an overall happy ending. It doesn’t apply to real life.” Wonwoo spits back, arms crossed. 

“It’s more sour. Like it it’s painful as fuck but damn it tastes good.” 

“That's not poetic Jun that's fucked up.” 

Jun knows he doesn’t just want Minghao in the way that he does, it’s not about possession, not really. What he wants is everything else. He wants waking up next to him, arms tightly wrapped lovingly around Minghao, he wants swinging entwined hands in frosty mornings, he wants promises to one another. But he’ll take what he can get, and get high off what he does. 

“He’s addicted.” Jeonghan says from across the room, reading Jun’s mind apparently. 

“I don’t like this.” He follows.

That's a low blow. Even Jeonghan thinks it's a bad idea. 

“What do you think Minghao would think if he knew he was using you?” 

Jun knows if Minghao said the

ey should stop he would, in a heartbeat. He also knew if Minghao knew Jun’s feelings there would be no way in hell he’d even consider doing this to him, which at least gave Jun the security that Minghao was blissfully ignorant. 

He can’t get stupid Yoon Jeonghan’s voice out of his head all day after that, intent on this never happening again. But when he walks through the door, evidently tense, he has Minghao latched onto him, and he’s powerless to stop himself from throwing his arms over his shoulders, and the cycle begins again. 

He’s playing with fire, it's only inevitable to be burned. 

“I was not built for this heat.” Yanan complains, fanning himself hurriedly with the textbook laid out in front of the two of them. 

“It’s because you’re ninety percent leg. More chafing.” 

“Uh huh.” 

It wasn’t just Yanan though, it was boiling today, his jacket lay discarded on a chair, wishing that he’d picked a t shirt that wasn’t black and absorbing all the heat in the world directly onto his torso. He’d slept without the blankets, choosing his shower to be cold, which happened maybe once in a millennium. It meant that his and Yanan’s focus was slipping very fast away from their grasp. It was hard to remember what a longitudinal wave did to a coastline when you couldn’t feel anything other than the lovely sensation of sitting in your own sweat. 

“Would it kill them to put air conditioning in the library, it’s only the most frequently used facility and lifeline of their students.” Yanan grumbles, flicking through pages without reading a single thing. 

“We’re supposed to finish in half an hour anyway, let’s get the hell out of this pit of hell and get an ice cream.” Jun proposes, receiving a relieved and eager nod in return. 

He contemplates getting Yanan’s opinion regarding the situation, getting an outside (ish) voice, one that didn’t already know everything about both him and Minghao. Wonwoo, Jeonghan, Seungcheol and Chan all thought it was the worst possible thing in the world, Chan, Hansol and Seungkwan shrugged and said it wasn’t their business. Joshua just gave him a look, what the look was alluding to baffled Jun, and Mingyu, Seokmin and Soonyoung had been terrifyingly completely silent. But talking about it just brought the stress of everything, and eventually would just make him pine harder. Maybe it was nice that he didn’t have to bring the stress of Xu Minghao with him when he was around Yanan. Plus, Yanan and Minghao barely knew each other above the level of acquaintance, probably down to bad timing. Pity, he thought they’d get along. 

“Earth to Junhui?” 

Jun blinked, snapping back into reality as he found themselves already having reached the ice cream cart. 

“You didn’t respond when I asked what flavour you wanted and the guy looked pretty pissed so a panicked and got us both vanilla sorry if it’s not what you wanted.” Yanan rambles, already holding 2 cones in hand. 

“Shit sorry.” Jun apologises with a sheepish grin. 

Yanan clearly notices something across the field, and his expression morphs into a distinctly non-Yanan like smirk. He’s holding the ice creams above his head, so at a freakishly high height. “Come and get it then.” 

Jun has been thinking about that goddamn ice cream for way too long cramped in that sticky library for four hours to deal with this shit. 

“That’s not fair.” He whines, jumping in futile attempts. 

“You’re short, hardly my fault.” 

“I am six fucking feet, you’re stretche. let! Me! Have! My! Ice cream!” 

“Ask nicely. I paid for it.” 

“You shit.” 

“I said nicely, you foul mouthed peasant.” 

What the hell has gotten into Yanan, Jun doesn’t know, but he’s laughing, actually laughing and after this hell of a day it feels good, feels free and for a record time he hasn’t even thought about…

“Minghao!” Yanan announces, weirdly frantic, dropping his arms immediately. Jun snatches his ice cream, throwing Yanan an evil look, who only responds with one of panic. 

“You said you’d be at the library.” 

It’s almost a growl, wretched from the back of MInghao’s throat.

He hates it when he’s hurt, it must have been some choreographer with a stick far up their arse who, given the chance, Jun would surely like to rip apart. It would be easy to take that pain away, so easy- but they’re standing in the middle of a field, surrounded by people, people who could see. And there isn’t really anything that they would see, nothing real anyway. 

“Sorry- we got boiling and got ice cream to cool down.” 

“I can see that.” Minghao spits, an extra venom packed that Jun has a terribly weird feeling might be directed at Yanan. And now Jun’s being pulled away, looking back at Yanan in confusion. 

“Sorry.” Yanan mouths back, and Jun cannot for the life of him figure out what for. 

There’s barely enough time for Jun to put his keys down before they’re lying forgotten, discarded on the hallway floor, Jun’s hands far more occupied tugging Minghao’s hair so tight he fears he could tear it out, but  _ holy fuck _ he needs to grab  _ something. _

It had been coming, Jun knew that, but it still surprised him to be practically attacked, and Minghao was doing a tremendous job at disturbing his chain of thought, it would be all too easy to forget even his own name if he kept at it.

Usually Minghao’s transparent, Jun always knows exactly what he’s feeling, why he’s feeling. Every other time, it’s been so easy to tell.  _ I’m insecure but you make me not, I’m so stressed and so upset and this makes me forget, I could tell you needed to forget too, I’m bored and you’re here, so, I dont know its fun I guess.  _

But it's just unreadable this time, and Jun just hopes he won’t mark the kitchen top with how much his nails dig in. 

Jun knows he’s in love with Minghao. It happened so long ago and although even his thoughts dance around the word itself, he’s known, at the back of his mind or the centre. He’s ached to tell him, to show him, but in a dull, desperate pathetic way, that he’s been able to quench. 

And in this moment, he can barely fight it. There’s something desperate in how Minghao kisses him, something vulnerable that he’s probably imagining, he has to be imagining, it hurts, it burns so much harsher, and it’s different. The sheer magnetism of it all is giving him a headache, just say it, just tell him, it’s true, maybe it wouldn’t go so badly-- 

But as he catches himself, he realises how far he could have fallen, how close he got to the edge, millimetres away from an abyss where there are no ropes. He needs out, he needs this to stop, he needs to run. 

So he does. 

He allows himself one second, the tiniest fraction of what he wants, just to look straight back, and pretend, and then he’s out of the door. 

Night finds him unable to get comfortable on Wonwoo’s couch, his only warmth a freakishly scratchy blanket, watching his phone die in front him, his only notification lying unread. 

_ What. - Mingyu 17.34 _


	2. The Rhythm of Midnight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess Im kinda getting the hang of this?

Jun doesn’t believe in love at first sight. Never has, never will. Life didn’t have those eye contact through weirdly picturesque fish tanks moments that solidified two lives forever. He’s not naive, he knows the Jun who two years ago first caught sight of Minghao was not the same Jun who knows no rush better than the heroine of his mere presence.

No, surprisingly, Jun barely pays any attention when he first sees Minghao, just a sparing glance and a nod, attention still glued to his phone. He’d only just met Mingyu the week before, and he was… a lot. That being said, Jun adored Mingyu, even then, but Mingyu was just loud, loud in his volume, in his stature, in how he filled the room. He’d smiled and asked Wonwoo if they could keep him, earning a nice bruise on his arm, and apparently Mingyu came with a package, that package being what had initially seemed Mingyu’s polar opposite. 

Jun didn’t even talk to Minghao just the two of them for at least a month, until Jun decided to annoy Mingyu by refusing to speak anything but Mandarin to him for a day, enlisting Minghao’s help in the agitation. 

“Mingyu, you really need to be careful who you introduce me to. I think me and pretty boy make a pretty terrifying alliance don’t you?” Minghao had laughed, doubled over by the confused frustration of Mingyu, and an embarrassing heat entered Jun’s cheeks. 

Jun did  _ not  _ blush, but in that moment he had a terrible feeling this individual was going to make himself quite at home in his heart, he didn’t know, however, that he would fill it up so hard it would hurt to breathe. 

Wonwoo’s kind enough not to ask questions when Jun shows up on his doorstep. Kind enough for the night anyway, throwing him a pillow and a terrible blanket, telling him to go the hell to sleep. 

Sleep comes eventually, but with it returns Minghao. 

He’s back on his own couch, staring as intently as possible at the flashing buzz of the screen, straight ahead. Anything to distract him from his own fantasies. 

“What’s wrong?” He’s asked, his chin cupped and slippery. “You’re dreaming Junhui, there are no repercussions here, it doesn’t matter. You can make what happened here what you actually wanted.”

It’s painfully familiar, an almost perfect recreation of literally only four days ago, the same screen, the same couch, the same late hours long after the sunset, and always , always the same longing. Not the same Minghao. 

That Minghao was far less vocal, but just as persistent, all warm wandering hands and heavy breaths. 

“What would you like to change? Did you want me to stay? Not wake up cold and alone? Want me enclosed in your arms through the night?”. Fingers traced his collar bone, just as they had done, painfully slow. 

“You want to act like you don’t crave me? That you don’t want every single bit of me, all the time, in every way. That you want my fingers through yours when we walk to class, under the table, or held up over my head, where I could easily break your knuckles with how hard I squeeze, just like I did, right here?”

“What I want is to still have you in my life, I want to not ruin things by being stupid.” Jun argued, unsure who he was trying to prove his point to. 

“Don’t kid yourself, we’re way way past stupid at this point. You’re scared. Scared because I’ll never love you.” 

The word burns as Jun gives in, and Minghao is silenced beneath him. If he can never do it again, he can at least relive it in his own mind, just like he used to. He could do it again, he could resist, pretend the breathy gasps of his name were not the sweetest sound his ears had ever been blessed enough to hear. Wishes from birthday candles and stars hurt less when they didn’t come true if you didn’t try to fulfill them.

“But Jun, if you stop, who says I will? Who says that I won’t find someone else, who says that you were ever special? One day, someone else will have everything you have, and everything you want. Someone who isn’t you will get new years kisses, will get my heart soaring, will own it. Are you prepared for that, Jun? Are you all right with hearing a stupid giggle at someone's bad jokes, ready for my eyes to linger where you aren’t?”

“I can live with it.” It’s a lie. “You deserve better than what I could ever give you.” That isn’t. 

“Maybe, but how is it going to feel to know someone else's hands get to wander  _ here?  _ And  _ here.  _ And  _ here.” _

He shakes himself awake, feeling too physically sick to sleep again. 

The courtesy of silence that Wonwoo had so nicely gifted him was apparently over, because here came the bombardment of questions. 

“Seriously Jun I wasn’t going to ask last night because you looked pretty torn up, so I thought I’d leave it, but you talk in your sleep.” 

“And I say?”

“Not much that I could actually get out, I was trying to sleep myself, apart from one particular name, frequently, I think you can guess who.” 

Jun sighs. “I’m in way over my head.” 

Wonwoo does have the tact to not verbally do the jerk move of i-told-you-so, but this asshole’s eyes don’t have the manners his mouth does apparently. 

“I realised, and I ran.” 

“You  _ ran?”  _

“I was sitting on the kitchen top, very much occupied, then it hit me, and next minute I’m at your door.” 

“What hit you.” 

“That I’ve gotten so fucking absorbed in this that I am going to fuck up and let on that it’s not enough.”

“So you  _ ran?”  _

“I panICKED"

"JUN"

"I figured stopping as soon as possible was probably the best course of action"

"So instead of calmly sitting him down and diligently stopping the ordeal in a communicative manor, you noped out of there?"

"That is the current situation, yes.”

Jun wishes that they could just talk, but they don’t talk about it, not outside of it. Talking about it when it wasn’t happening doesn’t happen. It could bleed into the walls of their friendship but it would never get through, for it could easily fall. They woke up by themselves, taking breakfast as they would have six months ago, so naturally maybe they could fool themselves into forgetting why they looked so disheveled. This way they’d managed to keep normality standing strong. It stings brutally that Minghao might not give it a second thought if he walked though their food right now, probably offer him cereal. 

“What was happening before you freaked anyway?”

Jun removes his hoodie. 

“Jesus fucking CHRIST, was he...okay?” 

“He was in a bloody terrible mood, started on… this almost as soon as we got in the flat, And as great as that was-”

“Spare me.” 

“-I thought something was different, and I realised I was starting to get hopeful for something that wasn’t there.” He’s given up on a vain attempt of humorous censorship, he knows Wonwoo can see right through him. 

“Jun. If you’re going to stop, which you definitely should, you do need to actually tell him that instead of whatever you call this tactic.” 

This is going to hurt, and not in the ripping the bandaid kind of way. More like when someone’s been stabbed and losing blood rapidly so they burn the wound to cauterise it so they don’t, die. It’s going to be like  _ that.  _

“Fine. Can I borrow your phone charger?” And enough concealer to make me look like a dehydrated vampire?”

_ I need a favour.  _

_ -Yanan 09.12 _

Jun finds himself absolutely delighted to squeeze the shit out of an opportunity to procrastinate that lovely talk, and practically runs to Yanan’s apartment, which he immediately regrets because he happens to live on the 9th floor with an out of order lift, and Jun’s already sweaty enough in yesterdays clothes. 

“A favour?” 

To say that Yanan looked awkward a lot was probably the world’s greatest understatement, so it didn’t really phase Jun when he apprehensively bites his lip before speaking. 

“First of all, sorry about yesterday I wouldn’t have if I’d known Minghao was there…”

“Huh?”

“It’s just I saw Hyunggu looking at us, and Hongseok said tha-”

“Hongseok?” At any given time Jun had the mental capacity for maybe thirty names maximum. 

“Yang Hongseok.”

“Doesn’t help to add one name if I don't even recognise the first”

Yanan sighs, clearly already regretting his words. “Abs man.”

“ABS MAN!” (Jun had met Abs man, who apparently had a name a total of once, and henceforth Jun had referred to him as such exclusively, he’d been shirtless at the time, and given it being the only sight Jun had seen, he automatically assumed he was just like that in a constant state.)

“...aNYway,  **Hongseok** said that apparently seeing you and me together pisses Hyunggu off, and if the reason behind that is what-”

Ouch. Jun likes Hyunggu, he makes Jun look less tiny next to Yanan. It makes sense though, for reasons that Yanan is apparently only just starting to notice. 

“-I you know kinda hoooope it might be, I wanted to test the theory-”

Oh.  _ OH. _

“WAIT YOU WERE  _ FLIRTING  _ WITH ME?”

Yanan groans. “Please don’t say it, it’s pained me enough.” 

“Ew.” 

“Yeah it was gross. I didn’t get to see Hyungu’s reaction though because when I looked instead I saw a very livid looking Minghao and aborted that plan real fast.” 

Jun’s cheeks heat up oh so familiarly again, and he curses whatever past live condemned him to being so pathetic that his body literally goes into overdrive at the mention of his fucking  _ name.  _

“-it caught me off guard. But uh uh.”

This time Jun definitely notices the embarrassment festering upon Yanan. 

“I’m guessing this is where the favour comes in, huh?”

Yanan bit his lip.

“You want me to act like one of the swarm of schoolgirls that giggly follows a hot but terribly personalitied dude in every drama ever so your lil manifestation of disgusting affection might think he should probably make a move because you’re too much of a wimp with the backbone of a dead jellyfish to do it yourself?” 

“NO! Oh Jesus, well except the backbone thing, you might have me pegged there. I just need to slightly, you know, set off a subconscious nerve  **if** he has any reason to notice...please?”

“Why should I?”

“Because I’m your oldest friend and denying me something is like walking past a lemonade stand of a hopeful seven year old child: merciless.” Yanan pouted. If he wasn’t so tall he genuinely could resemble a seven year old at a lemonade stand.

“Do you even know if it’s going to work?” 

“Its not even my idea, Hongseok-”

“-ABS MAN”

“-came up with it.You know, he has quite an array of qualities that don’t have anything to do with his body.”

As freakishly besotted as Jun is with Minghao, the time that Jun had met Abs Man, he had barely been able to think of anything other than  _ that.  _ Actually, come to think of it, although Jun had a near picture-perfect recreation of his torso engraved in his memory he embarrassingly can’t for the life of him remember the guys face. 

Jun also personally thinks a universally acknowledged truth that Kang Hyunggu most certainly has it bad for Jun’s 6’2 oblivious friend, and if he can’t do anything about his own inevitable doom, he can at least nudge their unfortunate souls in the right direction. 

“Fuck it. I’m NOT kissing you though.”

“I would rather choke on my own spit.” 

They shake hands, a plot stewing. 

Eventually, Jun knows he has to face it. He contemplates doing it with the coward's shield of the phone, and even leaving a note on the fridge crosses his mind. Alas, Jun knows that the only way that Jun’s going to ever be able to face Minghao again is if he does it as normally as possible. What’s his plan? 

“ _ I need to stop whatever the arrangement we have going on is.”  _

Not the best, but truthful, straight to the point and honestly does Jun have the eloquence to put it any better? Nope. 

The fault is that he can’t just leave it at that. He has to provide at least a kind of explanation. 

_ It’s because I’ve been in love with you for over a year, and I thought I could live with it and then this happened I got so drunk off of it but I know the hangover is going to kill me, because its driving me insane. _

Fantastic in terms of truth, however truth is really the thing Jun is trying to swerve around. 

_ I’m straight?” _

Minghao probably wouldn’t buy that even if he was tranquilized. Neither would anyone to be honest. 

_ It’s made our friendship awkward? _

Not exactly true. Minghao, as far as Jun had noticed hadn’t really changed anything, he still sat shoulder’s brushed on the bus, he spoke to him like he always had done, he would still sling arms around Jun’s shoulders occasionally. Jun was the one being cautious. He had zero idea if Minghao had any idea, but suddenly those things became weird for him. They became cruel. He never did any of that himself anymore, it was too easy to pretend, pretend of what wasn’t.

Minghao feels absolutely ridiculous sitting at his dinner table, having practice conversations in the mirror, but as it turns out they were futile anway, because Minghao comes home before he makes a conclusion. 

The thing about Minghao, is that he can be turbulent. Sometimes you can take a sparing glance at him and know exactly what he’s thinking, or maybe it’s just Jun. Like when Jun  _ knows  _ he’s going to suggest sushi for dinner, or the slight change in tone whenever he’s exaggerating. But sometimes it's anyone’s guess, and Jun feels like a stranger. 

This is one of those times. His face isn’t blank, it’s just, not familiar. Jun, shamelessly spends an alarming duration of his time staring at the said face, this isn’t an expression he’s seen before, it's alien, it’s uncharted territory. For all he knows, Minghao just doesn’t care. 

Maybe he didn’t even hear Jun, he had just sort of spat it out before his brain had managed to catch up. 

“Right.” 

And just like that, the topic becomes even more awkward. It’s forgotten, ancient history, buried deep without so much of a second thought. It’s never to be mentioned again, erased, Jun can feel it, he knows it, even in just that second. It’s what he wanted, right? He wants to forget it, go back to dull rather than active torment. But even if Minghao plunges it deep, Jun’s barely got a dust layer, it’s always going to be at the middle of his mind, isn’t it? 

Maybe Minghao’s going to just find another to find someone else to do this with, for all he knows he might have before Jun, he could just have been another in a long line, a number, and now he’ll just grab someone else, because who wouldn’t want him? The words his mind conjoured at night to torture him through Minghao’s mouth haunt him, as much as he tries to put them to the back of his mind, make them silent. 

“Jun, does it have anything to do with-” Minghao stopped, or caught himself it appeared. “Never mind, I’m doing dinner so you better wash the dishes.” 

Burns rather than bleeding out, huh? 

Attempting to comfort himself with uplifting thoughts is futile. 

_ Hey, you’ll get over it eventually. You’ll end up even more whipped for someone else, someone who’ll love you back, someone you actually have a shot at happiness with.  _

He doesn’t even want that. A life where he isn’t in love with Minghao is a life that just doesn’t fit him, he doesn’t think he can do any less. Minghao deserves everything, and if all Jun can do is be so fucking catastrophically enamoured than so be it. He doesn’t want someone else, it doesn't settle right, doesn’t fit, it feels almost a crime to himself to even think about. He’d rather pine forever.Maybe he’s kidding himself, he’s just a young idiot in love, this won’t matter in five years,right? Wrong. It’ll always matter, because he’s the fool that fell for the moon. It’s self-destructive and terrible, but can he help it? 

He’s addicted after all. 

Jun wonders what his deal with Yanan is going to entail exactly. He certainly hopes it works, because god knows he deserves happiness a hell of a lot more than Jun does. Does he just be around Yanan at the same time as Hyunggu? Turns out he didn’t have to wait too long, before he bumps into Hyunggu at the bus stop. 

“Jun!” He waves brightly enough that his faith in the fact that Hyunggu did not actually hate him is pretty well restored. The problem just seems to be Jun  _ with  _ Yanan, not Jun specifically. 

Experiment time. 

“Oh hey Hyunggu, have you seen Yanan? He said he’d meet me here.”

His face falls a little, but Hyunggu catches himself. “Oh, uh no.” He replies, hands fumbling inside his hoodie pocket. 

Jun feels  _ evil.  _ It would probably be a lot easier if he just told Hyunngu everything he knows, like how it's almost physically impossible to draw his disgustingly lovesick eyes from him, that it’s a miracle he hasn’t noticed anything. But that would be breaking his promise to Yanan, while simultaneously robbing him off his dignity. Jun is only here to nudge, prod, not carry. Plus, it's working as a tremendous distraction, seeing as Minghao is right next to them and Jun’s actually managing to function with only like, 36% of his brain crying, which is a record for the last three days. 

Someone next to them makes an ill attempted try at covering up a snigger, and Jun comes to the realisation that this is in fact, abs man, who is wearing a shirt this time, disappointingly. His name still vanishes from Jun’s mind, but oh damn this guy orchestrated this whole thing, didn’t he? Like hell Yanan would have conjured this shit, he and Jun are alarmingly similar in their lovely tactic of shameless private pining. 

Jun coughs back, hoping he got across the  _ Shut up or this is going to be obvious and incredibly embarrassing for all parties  _ involved he intended.

Eventually Yanan shows up, just as the bus does, and is clearly going straight for Hyunggu, has the guy remembered  _ nothing.  _

It’s easy enough to naturally grab Yanan’s sleeve, just before he reaches him, and pulls him down onto the seat next to him, despite his initial confusion, Yanan appears to get the message, and happily gets comfortable, offering Jun an earbud. It’s not actually weird, for this is probably nothing different from how they’d act anyway, but this is great. They don’t want Hyunggu to consciously notice anything, just slightly displace the way of life so he maybe figures out that he might want to do  _ something.  _ There's a chance it’ll do nothing, but if that's the case there will be no damage done, and Yanan promised that he’ll try and do something himself.  _ That's an absolute last resort he probably doesn’t actually like me so like I’d rather not make a fool of myself but FINE.  _

So on this Monday, Jun finds himself watching his university coming into focus, listening to different music, next to the other most important person in his life, completely oblivious to the holes being drilled into his head by Minghao’s eyes. 

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For a girl that screams at her screens, books etc about miscommunication I do sure like utilsing it.


	3. Unable to contain the screams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey!! This took so long im so sorry! And this chapter is pretty short im sorry  
> but next chapter is a lot longer so yay?

Summer’s heat gets stronger, Minghao goes back home for the holidays, and Jun feels colder.

_ It’s three weeks Junhui, get over yourself.  _

He’s not even alone. Joshua took one look at the prices on airfare to the US without booking far in advance and decided, hm maybe Christmas was a better alternative. A handful of his friends were rooted locally anyway and Yanan had groaned something about a terribly annoying aunt that was staying at his parents and sent them a very lengthy apologetic voicemail about  _ how swamped with schoolwork he was and couldn’t possibly take a break although he so _ **_terribly wishes he could._ **

The mornings are quieter, the rooms seeming so much larger, so he fills them. He suppresses the phantoms of Minghao’s presence with actual people, as much as the introverted soul can be quenched. He kicks Mingyu’s ass at Mario kart. He lets Seokmin attempting to feed Soonyoung an entire meal via throwing the food into his mouth be hosted in his own goddamn kitchen (Minghao was NOT happy when he found that out). He spends nights at Joshua’s who lies upside down draped across his couch reciting tv plot holes at 3 in the morning after they’d spend an embarrassing amount of time inhaling it throughout the day. He calls Wonwoo and they take it in turns complaining. He kicks pillows at Yanan’s head every time he gets too ugh about Hyunggu because everytime he does he’s scared he’s going to end up telling him about Minghao, and in doing that sacrificing the lovely zone he has where he manages not to think about him too much. 

“Chandler meets Rachel for the first time about four different times.” 

“Do you plan on sleeping?” 

“I plan on making macaroni and cheese.”

“It’ll be daylight in like 2 hours, shua.”

“Early breakfast then, you get the pasta.” 

It’s better. Listening to Joshua’s insomniac ramblings and low hums as he boils the water is definitely a better alternative to picking up his phone and harassing Minghao 4000 kilometers away. He’ll eat this made with love pasta in front of the television until Joshua eventually nods off in an unflattering position, fall asleep himself and wake up around midday to find someone having let themselves in (why Joshua had ever given Seokmin a spare key was a mystery to Jun) poking his face. 

It’s almost what happens, the last thing he remembers before he nods off the early rays of sunlight rudely poking through the edges of the curtains, head resting against the arm of the sofa, only to find himself shaken awake by the shrill sounds of a doorbell. 

Joshua is well and truly still conked out, likely due to the fact that he’s had approximately ten hours of sleep in the past week, so Jun lets him doze while he groggily fumbles his way to the doorway. 

“Hong residence.” He mumbles as he opens the door. 

“Really, Junhui?” 

“You woke me up you shithead.” He spits back, wanting a little more malice in his voice than his vocal chords are apparently capable of this soon after awakening. 

“It’s 2pm, Junhui. I literally sent Joshua like fifteen texts.” Jeonghan pushes into the room, settling a plastic bag down on the table, which makes the undeniable clank of that of multitudes of alcohol. 

Jun raises an eyebrow. 

“Look two weeks with my family is great and all but they were apparently doing a dry Janurary thing in July and I thought fuck that and came back.” 

“And decided to do the furthest thing from it?” Jun asks, peering into the bag to see an unholy amount of soju.

“Precisely. How’s your moping been?”

“Moping?” 

“How many nights have you been here instead of your own place?”

“...four.”

“You’re a little bit of a dead giveaway, you have the face of a stage six moper, just two weeks withou- oh my fucking  _ god  _ Jun that’s his shirt isn’t it.” 

Okay, that hadn’t been intentional exactly, it had just made its way into the wrong person’s wardrobe, and it was a comfortable shirt, and Jun really hasn’t been doing that much laundry recently so it was basically just a throw on thing. It didn’t really make sense that he’d exclusively washed it repeatedly and worn it for eight days straight. 

“Moping. Lets fix that for a little.” Jeonghan grins, handing him a bottle. “If you help me and Shua clean this place ready for the evening then you don’t have to bring you own.” 

“Can I really be asked for a party, han?”

“You don’t have to, but it might make you maybe not wear your not-boyfriend’s clothing. You can’t pine if you’re passed out, now can you?”

_ Tell that to my dreams,  _ Jun thinks, but refrains from saying. He can’t know about those, neither can Wonwoo, and god forbid Mingyu. They cut a bit too deep, they didn’t just bleed, they scarred, his friends didn’t need to know that bit, nobody did. 

“You can bring that socially constipated friend,of yours, just tell him that he and whoever he wants to bring with him won’t be let in without at least a litre of something.” 

So that’s how Jun spends the afternoon de-macaroni and cheesing the kitchen, moving all not already vomit stained materials from the living room, plugging in headphones so he remains as blissfully ignorant to the blatant flirting of his comrades as possible.

_ 8pm. Jeonghan and Jisoo’s. Bring liquid courage as an offering so Jeonghan doesn’t eat you. Bring Hyunggu, maybe we can do some nudging.  _

That. That was by far Jun’s favourite distraction. Two weeks into their endeavour and chances were looking promising. Not only was it weirdly fun, it was rewarding. The grin on Yanan’s face after Hyunggu practically yanked him into the seat next to him the morning after the first movement was priceless. And a party? That could work as a very pop culture induced catalyst. Jun knows it all too well, except in this scenario particularly had two individuals that the gods had graced with an extremely good chance, not like Jun’s own personal sweet talking curse. 

_ Apparently he’s already been informed by Hansol. Will bring a sacrifice. Don’t let Jeonghan eat me. _

Nine pm. Everyone eroded enough by their drinks to be a little bit loud, that little bit more giggly, with that little waddle-sashay while they attempt to remember how legs work. The music might be loud, or maybe Jun’s ears are playing with him. He knows everybody enough to not have so many guards up, and the one person he really shouldn’t let his mouth run to is very much not present. It’s calming, he’s letting himself just run a little loose.

It’s perfect until people start actually dancing. 

He’s in stitches at this point, whipping out his phone to record the absurdity of whatever Seungkwan and Seokmin think they’re doing, because jesus christ Minghao needs to see this, by the time his phone is back in his jeans there’s more people completely leaving their pride dead in a ditch and joining in. 

Yanan looks completely transfixed, barely managing to clutch his glass (Joshua forgot to get cups while shopping, and everyone was praying nobody ended up with shards in their feet when they woke up tomorrow). “Who gave him the ability to dance like  _ that” _

It occurs to Jun that he's never actually seen Hyunggu dance himself, only half listened to Yanan’s ramblings and Minghao’s occasional drops of his name whenever he talked about class. But for a little bit, just as he turns to look at where Yanan’s eyes linger he understands why, as Hyunggu grins, making his way over to the two of them powered with whatever spell he cast because he actually manages to clutch Yanan’s hands and drag him into dancing along with him, if you can call it that. It’s more Yanan grinning so wide he might strain his face while letting Hyunngu dance around him, not letting go from their intertwined fingers. It almost remind himself of-

“I’m going to be sick.” He blurts out to Hansol before he runs to the balcony.

_ I’d dance with you if I was there. -Minghao 21.38 _

He’s glad Yanan didn’t see him run. His moral compass would draw him from Hyunggu and out to check, see if he’s okay, and Jun couldn’t wish less to take him from that, and he’d probably have to explain.

He’s barely had anything but the alcohol is churning him around inside, maybe because he’s learned to associate it with the smell of a certain person's hair tickling his chin and right now he’s never felt so cold, so devoid of contact.

“You okay?” Jeonghan asks, hands warm on his back and a quite frankly uncharacteristic amount of concern in his voice. “You’ve not had enough to look this shit, and as pro regurgitating on unsuspecting people as I am, this isn’t right.” 

“Maybe moping doesn’t cut it.” He mutters in response, thinking that if his wounds are so easy to open he might as well let himself bleed out. 

“I’m taking you home.” 

“NO.” Home was where he needed to run from, he can’t be alone within the walls that are do drenched in what is toxic. 

“Okay. Let’s get you to Mingyus.” 

He wonders if he can get a bingo sheet for how many friend’s couches he’s slept on in the past month.

It’s not a couch, he ends up crashing right beside Mingyu. 

“You look like absolute shit, you don’t need back ache tomorrow, so get in and let us spoon like men.” 

He wills himself not to sleep, he cannot sleep, he knows what will happen if he sleeps and yet he still feels his eyelashes tickling his skin as he unwillingly drifts off.

Then there he is, right back where he was, his friends frozen around him in a tableau. The pure look on Yanan’s unmoving smile still brings Jun warmth, it’s a serene enough image until he hears the inevitable voice in his left ear. 

“Aren’t we going to dance?”

“There isn’t even any music.” he deflects, whipping around and sucking in his breath once he lays eyes on Minghao. Curse his subconscious, is this really the Minghao he wants to see right now, the one seared in his memory? He didn’t know what he expected, maybe how he’d looked at the dancers showcase last year, Jesus christ Jun knows he hadn’t stopped gaping all night, Wonwoo had even shoved the rolled up program through Jun’s mouth to prove a point. He hadn’t anticipated a direct copy of the Minghao who had stopped him crashing his fist into a wall, his hair frizzy at the tips, literally in his pajamas. 

But of course this was it, of course it was. Because this is the Minghao that Jun aches for, the one that's real, real enough that a little bit of himself, the bit he hates can maybe pretend is his. 

“Like I even need it.” Minghao grins, his hands far too comfortably wrapped around Jun’s neck. 

“What’s the problem Jun? I said I would, didn’t I? This is barely a fantasy.”

Maybe that’s the problem, because if this had happened, if a Minghao who’s been eroded down by alcohol had done anything remotely close to what Hyunggu did to Yanan he might as well have thrown his soul down to whatever would feed on it’s scraps. 

“You can’t be  _ normal _ around me anymore. Because the second I pull something like this you pour yourself out onto my fingers, and it could start again. But you can’t stay away either.”

But the reality is that Minghao is hundreds of miles away, nowhere near this insignificant party, and that this is but a dream conjured by a stupid text. 

And in real life, Jun is restrained by the cruel bondage of reality, and here no such tethers exist, which is how he ends up leaning over something that’s not really Minghao, liking this ending far better than the one where he retches pathetically. 

The thought that none of this is real, will be real is pushed far far back into his mind, drowned out by the heat of the sweet singe of Minghao’s skin to his own, after weeks of withdrawal. Perhaps he won’t remember in the morning, just something on the tip of the tongue to be forgotten as the day progresses, either way the repercussions do not ricochet like they would. Either way, he’s far broken the barriers he swore to hard to defend, because dammit there’s no universe real or not in which he could ever refuse Xu Minghao. Even quicksand culd feel a bit like a hug, for a minute. 

“Really Pretty boy? In Front of everyone? Thought you’d have more dignity than that.” 

Jun waves it off. “They’re frozen, and also like, not real.” 

It was as easy as breathing to love Minghao, but here it didn’t make his chest ache quite so much. 

Mingyu is weird.

A broad statement really, and one that applied in multiple aspects. He is just generally, like that. For example he had seemed to think platypuses were fictional, and is utterly convinced that waking up early in the morning was  _ good for you.  _

He’s weird in the- taking shots of vinegar instead of alcohol if he doesn't want to drink because he still wants to feel included, you know?- kind of way. 

But right now, Mingyu is weird for  _ him. _

Normally the guy will literally bound into a room, talking several thousands miles per second with the social and spatial energy of a toddler but the surface area of a bison. 

He does not, sit shuffled in the corner of the sofa biting his lips and fumbling at his hands. No, Mingyu is weird today. 

Maybe it’s out of worry, the guy has such an enormous heart that he uses to spend caring deeply about everyone that fills Jun with an overwhelming desire to snap his neck, which is really just a deceiving cloak of his desire to personally bring about the demise of anyone that dare hurt him. And the worry would as much shame as it brings Jun, probably warranted. Having to carry any of his friends in the state he had been in would have messed him up. Mingyu doesn’t even know the full extent of the fuckery, Jun had never even told Mingyu about their...escapades he had gathered Minghao must have told him, because Wonwoo definitely found out via Mingyu. He only knows the surfaces of the mess, Jun had always been careful not to properly let his mouth run, the only ones that knew anything close to the truth about how deep his feeling ran were Jeonghan and Wonwoo. The thing about Mingyu is his mouth could be rather large, and if Minghao was going to hear anything, Jun would really rather it came out diluted.

“If you don’t speak to Minghao, and I mean ACTUALLY speak to him I will throw you in the swimming pool.” Mingyu blurts out, without so much of a breath within syllables. 

“Fine jesus just let me get my trunks then-”

“Wen Junhui.” 

“There isn’t any way in hell I’m doing that Mingyu, you could threaten to throw me into an active volcano and my thoughts on that subject wouldn’t change-”

“-can you please listen to me for-”

“-I don't see how it’s any of your business.”

The words leave a horrible aftertaste of regret as soon as they exit his mouth. “Shit sorry that wasn’t fair-”

“Jun. You’re literally fucking yourself over, and I will babysit you every time you do but do not turn up your nose at shit that doesn’t fit in whatever self destructive burrow you’ve squidged yourself into- all you’re doing is hurting yourself and not too mention what it’s doing to-”

Jun is well aware that sometimes he is not the shiniest penny in the moneybox, however there are some things that manage not to completely sail over his head. 

“I said nothing good day to you, I suddenly have a very urgent matter involving uh, yes I need to go to the dentist because my shoulder bone has been killing me-” Mingyu rambles, hastily getting up and grabbing his keys, and before Jun knows it he’s sitting alone on Mingyu’s couch, Mingyu having left to his “dentist appointment for his shoulders” 

Maybe he should talk to Minghao. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> can yall tell i love kino

**Author's Note:**

> :0  
> This is a lil fic, probably only three or four chapters :)


End file.
